Living with the dead
by RavenHeartL
Summary: We had never met each other before, we all led mostly healthy lives. Then they came, to feed on human flesh and turn you into one of their own. The media referred to them as Zombies, created from a contagious disease that turns you into a living dead. To survive, we joined up to create a rather dysfunctional group of zombie-killing teenagers, and now, we are known as The Akatsuki.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, I'm back with a new fanfiction.  
>For those wondering, I may update my other fanfictions someday... maybe.<br>Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Hidan<span>

"Hidan, can you explain to my why, yet again, you have not handed in your homework to me?"

"Because I didn't do it?"

"Outside, NOW! I'll deal with you later."

Hidan sighed and lifted his head off the table. His teacher had interrupted a perfectly fine nap of his, just to shout at him for something they both knew he wouldn't do anyway. Why the hell should _he _have to do homework? Isn't the point of school to learn _in_ school, and isn't the point of going home a break for children in this Jashin-damned loop of work and rest.

_Meh, it's not like I'm that much committed to the work part anyway._

"Hidan, stop taking your time and hurry up and get out of my sight!" The teacher yelled at him.

"Fine, I'm going, bitch" Hidan mumbled in response as he made his way out of the door.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SA-" _Slam. _Hidan closed the door as hard as he could, making as much noise as possible.

"Tch, fucking bitch, what the fuck am I supposed to do now?"

Hidan sat down on the floor of the corridor, his back against the wall. He started fiddling with the pocket knife he kept hidden in his pocket in case of emergencies, or in this case, scratching a line into the wall, next to a tally. Hidan had a tally outside everyone of his classes, symbolising every time he has been sent out of sed class. He counted up his tally so far, in the 3 years he had spent in his high school so far, he had been sent out of this classroom 97 times.

_Damn, I must be slacking._

He recalled the tally's of his other classrooms as well, remembering that his maths classroom had 352 lines outside the wall. That was his personal record for now, though his science classroom had 295, which was slowly catching up.

With his slicked back silver hair and light purple eyes, people often made fun of Hidan and claimed he was an 'albino'. Albino's have white hair, he had silver hair. That's what he always told them, but to no avail, as they would still carry on their excessive bullying of him.

With a sigh, Hidan stood back up and clicked his back.

_What's taking that bitch so long to come out here and scold me already? I'm getting bored... maybe she forgot about me._

People always forgot about Hidan. No matter how many jokes and pranks he would pull, people would always forget about him. They always have, always would. Even his parents forgot about him. His dad developed Transient Epileptic Amnesia when he jumped off a 3 story house when his mother had left him. Her last words to him were 'You can keep that _thing_ you call our child, I never want to see you or him again'. It was those words that ultimately led to his dad's suicide attempt which failed and left him with his illness. It's an extremely rare neurological illness, which causes the sufferer to have recurring bouts of both short term and long term amnesia.

So in the end, even Hidan's father couldn't remember him. He would go home every day to his father, only to be met with confused eyes every time he walked through the front door. Each time he would have to explain to his father who he was, and each time his father would reply with ' You're not my son, I would remember my own fucking son'.

It's been that way for the past 5 years, ever since he was nine. It would happen today, it will happen tomorrow. And each time it did, a small part of Hidan's heart would shatter.

But he would never tell anyone that. As far as everyone else was concerned, he was that one loner kid that didn't care what people thought of him.

He walked over to the window opposite him and leaned out of it, enjoying the cool breeze blowing over his face. He open his eyes as he heard a slight commotion on the school grounds. His eyes scanned the area until they landed upon the cause of the disturbance.

His eyes widened, as his breath caught in his throat. He started trembling his and his face became pale. He quickly ducked away from the window and slouched down onto the floor trying to steady his breathing. He looked again, wishing it were a dream, that it was all just a hallucination, but his eyes came across the same dreadful scene.

He whispered two words, that seemed to echo in the deserted halls, the two words that he will always remember that marked the start of the end...

"Oh shit."

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><p><span>Sasori<span>

Sasori sat in the recovery room, staring into space with a sad look in his eyes. It was boring in the hospital, and there was nothing there for him to do, not to mention the hardly edible food they gave him. Honestly, it's like they didn't want him to get better.

_Not that anyone does._

Sasori sighed and started pacing the room he was brought to. It wasn't that he didn't like the room, it was bigger than his at home. It was just there was nothing to do, and no one to see in this cramped hospital.

He sat back down on his bed, swinging his legs back up, flinching when hey made a squeaking sound.

_I'll have to see the nurse about that._

Two weeks prior to that day, Sasori was involved in a fatal car accident with his parents and his aunt. They were laughing about a joke his aunt had made, except for Sasori, as he was never one for social encounters, even then. They were heading towards a T junction when the breaks on the car had stopped working. That's when the merry laughter turned into screams of anguish when they saw a white lorry going way too fast along the road they were heading were all frozen in shock, knowing there was nothing they could do about the lorry that was going to hit them. The only one who seemed to have not been affected by the shock was Sasori's dad, who, at the very last second, swivelled the car around 180 degrees so the lorry would hit his side of the car instead of Sasori's and his mum's side.

Needless to say, his dad and aunt, who was on the same side, died on impact. His mum,later on,died in hospital. And so, Sasori was the only one left.

His legs and arm were damaged beyond repair, so they were amputated. Also, due to the post traumatic stress, he was now considered an insomniac, having only slept 4 hours in the last 2 weeks.

His uncle, who was married to his aunt, and his 3 children, his only living relatives, refused to take him in. His uncle blamed him for the death of his wife, and constantly wishes he had died in her place. His cousins weren't too bad though. The two eldest avoided him whenever necessary, but looked at him in pity in stead of hatred. He didn't know what was worse. He loved the youngest, however. Gaara was only 6, yet his eyes held the sadness and wisdom that most adults cant realise themselves. Gaara refused to shun Sasori, not seeing what he had done wrong, which led his father to hate him, also, and blame him for his mothers death. Even though it wasn't any of their faults.

About a week ago, a man came into the hospital and asked to speak to him. Having nothing better to do with his life, he agreed. The man offered Sasori the chance of a life time, to have his legs and arm back. He worked for a large company that did research towards prosthetic limbs made out of wood coated in a 'secret substance' which stops it from catching fire. He needed an amputee to test it on, and since Sasori was the nearest and most convenient one around, he was asked. Of course he was going to say yes, if it meant he could walk again. The prosthetic limbs reacted to signals sent to the nerves from the brain, so therefore, could move like any other limbs, and even looked like real legs and arms too. The only problem at the moment was all the squeaking and slight stiffness at the joints. Heck, maybe he needed some oil or something.

The men did weekly visits to him in the hospital to test his reflexes and speed, jotting down notes and then leaving. He was required to stay in the hospital for the time being, so they could keep track of his easier. But there was nothing to do. Nowhere to go. He couldn't see other children his age, as there were none in the hospital. The few friends he did make all left when they got better. There was nowhere to go, for him.

He couldn't be mad, he couldn't cry. He had let go of those feelings a long time ago. He could only stare, eyes devoid of most emotions. He walked over to the window next to his bed and looked out, seeing if he could identify the man who would be coming to check his progress with his limbs before he came in, but when he looked, he saw something... someone, slightly more disturbing. He rubbed his eyes and pinched himself, thinking that it might be a dream, but, to his astonishment, he opened his eyes to the same sight.

His lips curled into a smirk, and he drew his hand through his messy red hair.

"Well" He said to himself.

"Things just got slightly more interesting."

**IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ  
>Okay, so the idea behind this is that there will be 5 chapters, with two random members of the Akatsuki in each They explain things that happened in the past is still happening with them and what they are doing the day this fanfiction is going to be set. The main story will then start after the fifth chapter after I'm done describing stuff and setting the scene. **

**Remember to review, favourite and follow... or don't. Whatever floats your goat.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Damn, over 3,000 words just for 1 chapter, that's way more than the last... it probably wont happen again.**

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><p>Itachi Uchiha was sat in the bottom floor library of his school, reading the hours away and enjoying the solitude and lack of simpleton fools that avoid this place like it housed the plague. The room was silent, as he was the only one there. Not even the librarian was there, to pester him and attempt to make small talk.<p>

His grades far surpassed all the other pupils in his school, and he had already skipped 2 years. He was preparing to go to a special college, one that only the smart and the rich can get into. If he got in, he would be one of the youngest students to attend that college at that , in order to create his application to the highest standard and include all of his experience, he was granted a free card, which means twice a day, he can miss out on any lesson of his choice to go to the library and prepare his entrance essay.

He finished all that about a week, but he still used the card as a means to escape from society once in a while. It wasn't like he was learning anything, he already knew all the topics, and it was such a bore watching all the other imbeciles struggle against even the most mediocre of task's.

His parents had always had high hope's for him. Being the eldest and first born meant that, he would one day have to take over his families business, Uchiha Loans. The profit made from their company meant that they lived very well off for most of their lives. He and his brother always got what they wanted, no question about it, and he had always been grateful for his family for that. Not that he ever really wanted more than an entertaining book.

He found it all rather boring, however, knowing that, as first born, he would inherit everything from his parents. Their wealth, their company, it felt as if he would have achieved nothing in life, and had all this work for nothing. He wanted to make his own way, he wanted to risk everything. He wanted to feel alive.

So, five weeks ago, declared to his parents that he would be relinquishing his rights to the company and passing it on to his younger brother, Sasuke.

Needless to say, his parents were stunned.

Too stunned.

They did everything to try and persuade him to take on the company, even going so far as to threaten to disown him if he wouldn't comply, but nothing they could say could stray him from his goals. He wanted to make something of himself, he wanted to work for it. He told his parents this time and time again, every time they would barge in and pester him.

It took them two weeks to realise that their efforts were futile.

So, 3 weeks ago this day, he and his brother were dropped off at the adoption centre, where his parents proclaimed that they weren't worth all the time and money they spent on them. They signed the papers and they took them away.

It hurt, even he would admit it, that his parents could be so cruel as to give them both up in a heartbeat. Even his brother, who did nothing wrong, just because they saw him as unfit to inherit the company. He wouldn't cry though, he knew better than to cry for the people that had never shed a tear for him. So he comforted his brother instead, as he sobbed into his jacket.

As Itachi was 14 had to give his consent to being given up for adoption. He did it, though, without any hesitation. If he hadn't, his brother, Sasuke, who was only 5 years old, would've been sent anyway, and he loved his younger brother more than anything, and he would never let him go through it on his own.

Unfortunately, it turned out the fates were with neither of them.

Sasuke was found a family almost immediately, and was taken away to live with them by the weeks end. They would only take him, however, so Itachi was left behind to stare at the car that took his brother away from him. That time, he cried. He cried for his brother, and he cried for himself. He cried until the sun broke through the curtains in the morning. That day, he vowed to get stronger. Not physically, but mentally. So that nothing could truly hurt him again.

That was two weeks ago, and now he was here, in his school library, still living in the orphanage and trying to make a future for himself. He had blocked out all distractions to reach this goal, even other people. He hardly used full sentences in conversations any more, and even then, only if he deemed it absolutely necessary.

His social worker had been kind enough to get him the address to his brothers school, which wasn't very far from where his was really. He had yet to visit him, but was planning on going soon.

Suddenly, Itachi heard a scream emit from the hallway outside of the library, and echo inside the big room. He carefully laid down his book and stood up, careful not to make a sound. He silently tiptoed the the door and cracked it open slightly. He looked to his left, and that's where he found... it? The sight itself was almost enough to make the usually stoic Uchiha hurl, so he quietly closed the main door and stood in silence, going through all the possible scenario's and trying to figure out his next move.

"Well, I guess that college form might not be so useful after all."

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><p>Kisame hauled himself out of the water, his toned chest and swimming trunks dripping with chlorine- filled water. After he finally regained his breath, he looked up to the scoreboard as two young boy's ran to greet him from the sidelines, one, a towel in hand, and the other, a water bottle.<p>

_Second place? Dammit, I thought I had this one!_

"Kiiiiiiiiiisame-sama!"

Kisame turned around just in time to see his two younger cousins tackle him to the ground.

"Kisame-sama! You were great!"

"Yeah, you were the best, sensei!"

Kisame lightly chuckled to himself. Even when he didn't win, he had his cousins to support him. He ruffled each of their hair and pushed himself up again.

"Mangetsu-kun, Suigetsu-chan, I didn't even win the race, I came second. Why do you still claim I'm the best?"

"Why does he get to be -kun?" Suigetsu pouted, giving Kisame his best puppy dog eyes and completely ignoring the question Kisame posed.

"Sorry, kid. That kind of stuff doesn't work on me." Kisame winked at him just as he turned around to make his way back to his team.

"We still think your the best, Sensei!" Mangetsu shouted back after him. Kisame smiled lightly and walked back to the rest of his swimming team, who were bickering amongst themselves.

"Now now, guys. What's gotten you all so worked up?" Kisame asked his team mates.

"Zabuza just told us he's leaving the club!" Shouted a boy in the second row.

"Not only that, but he's moving away too!" Chirped in another boy.

Kisame's smile fell, and in it's place came a scowl.

"What! You can't leave us now, just as our team is starting to gather up a reputation! You're my best friend, dammit!"

Kisame swung his fist at the lockers near him, causing them to dent where his fist had made impact. His team mates all had shocked faces, all but Zabuza, who just kept looking at the ground, sadness etched in his features.

_Fuck, now I'm going to have to pay for the locker to be repaired._

Kisame loved to swim. It had always been his dream to win the Olympics and become famous with something he's good at. The only problem is, that people often find him too odd and scary looking to consider training him for the Olympics. Even when he is far more advanced than most.

His mother suffered severely from Emetophobia, the fear of being sick. She basically had a seizure whenever she heard someone say they didn't feel right, or even if they sneeze within 10 feet of her. So she didn't leave the house that much, especially after Kisame's father died from a contagious disease he caught whilst on a train. Kisame was 5 years old when it happened, and was too young to understand anything, but it had a devastating effect on his mother. She never wanted her son to die like his father did. So everyday, before he want to school, his mother would make him drink silver, which is proven to help illness and has been a remedy to sickness since the early 1800's. That is, unless you had too much.

By the time Kisame had turned 7, his entire skin had turned blue, from head to toe, from all of the silver his mother had made him take as a precaution. His mother had been warned by the social services that if she were to continue giving Kisame silver, he would die. He was told that it was incurable, but harmless. So, from there on, he had no one. Who would want to be friends with someone blue anyway? This carried on until he was 12. The loner kid that had nothing going for him but his abnormal coloured skin.

That is, until Zabuza came.

He was the one that walked into his life and changed his view on everything, on the world. He had just transferred into Kisame's school, and noticed that he was sat alone, away from everyone else. He knew what Kisame's condition was, he knew why he was the colour he was. Mainly because it had been the exact same thing that caused Zabuza's skin to go a light blue-ish grey colour. Zabuza had known what he was going through, and they quickly became friends thanks to there similarities.

He had taught Kisame the importance of finding something you can excel at, and making a good reputation for yourself. One that exceeds the reputation that was gained from the colour of his skin. It was then, that Zabuza had suggested swimming, something that he excelled at. As soon as Kisame first jumped into the water, he knew that he had found the thing he wanted to be good at. Unfortunately, this realization didn't stop him from almost drowning as he jumped into the deep end without first learning how to swim.

Despite the near death experience, Kisame persisted until he could swim front crawl and breaststroke. He was, despite all of the glare's from the onlookers and the terrified screams of children, enjoying himself.

Then, his mum passed away.

It was the very same disease that took his father away from them, that ended up taking his mum's life as well. How ironic. His mum, despite her fear, came out of the house and journeyed down to the school to meet Kisame's new friend. She was very excited and thankful to Zabuza for finally making her son feel like he fit's in, as Kisame talked about Zabuza a lot at home.

It had been the first day Kisame had truly felt like his mother had loved him. She went out of the house and risked exposure to multiple diseases to be there for Kisame.

Unfortunately, for every action, there are consequences.

His mum travelled by subway, and by mere chance, caught the same disease his father once had.

Kisame had always blamed himself for his mother's death. It was because of him that she came out of the house. Truly, it was the lowest point in Kisame's life so far.

So, it was when he got home, that he pulled out a blade from the kitchen draw and etched 3 lines under both of his eye's, resembling slightly, what a fishes gills may look like.

The first two scars symbolised his dead parents, one under each eye. The next ones symbolised love and fear, each one under the previous scar. The final two, symbolised hope, which he, again, put under the previous scars. Now his parents memories shall forever be etched into him, both mentally and physically, and accompany him always.

Just to complete the look, he then dyed his hair blue, because people had been calling him a shark before anyway. He kind of liked the look, it suited him. Zabuza agreed, and there friendship was now stronger, with the obstacles they had overcome. They had been together for a long time, and were closer than anything. They promised that they would always look out for each other, always have each others backs.

Now he was moving away, that promise could no longer be kept.

"Why? Dammit!" Kisame asked, trying to suppress the tears that were gathering in his eyes.

"My mum want's me to quit swimming and focus on my studies. She thinks the best way for that to happen would be..." Zabuza trailed off, biting his lip in an attempt to stop his own tears from showing.

"Would be what? WHERE THE HELL IS SHE SENDING YOU, ZABUZA?" Kisame yelled, causing his fellow club members to cease what they were doing to stare in his direction. He didn't care, though. All he cared about at that moment in time was Zabuza. His best friend.

"... s-she's sending me to a boarding school in... England."

Twin tears ran down Kisame's cheek's, his heart simultaneously shattering in two. He no longer had the strength to look at Zabuza, fearing that his crying would only intensify at the sight.

"W-when are y-you... l-leaving?" Kisame managed to stutter out.

"... Today, now in fact."

"AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ME ANY OF THIS BEFORE?!" Kisame's sadness now turned into anger, as he clenched his fist's together.

"I w-was trying to f-find the right t-time to tell you... but It never really came..."

"TO HECK IT DIDN'T. THERE WERE PLENTY OF TIME'S YOU COULD'VE TOLD ME!"

"I know, but none of them felt right..."

"Leave." Kisame was close to his breaking point, and he knew it. He didn't want his friend to see him like this, just before he had to go. He would rather his friend leave without the burden of guilt around him.

"B-but... Kisame, I..."

"Just leave, Zabuza, you've said enough."

_I forgive you..._

"No, Kisame... I-I can't..."

"Just leave before you have any more regrets, m'kay?" Kisame wiped his tears away from his face and put on a cheerful grin to reassure his friend, even though below the surface his emotions were running wild.

Zabuza was about to say more before Kisame cut him off by putting a finger to his lips.

"There is nothing more we can talk about, I only hope we can meet again in the future, friend."

Zabuza looked up at Kisame (Yes, Kisame is taller than Zabuza) tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

"Okay" He whispered, as Kisame led him outside.

"I guess this is goodbye then..." Zabuza started.

"No, let's not say goodbye... let's just say, we shall see each other soon, right?" Kisame smiled down at Zabuza, who in turn shyly smiled back.

"Yeah, we will see each other soon."

And with that, he walked out of the building, and down the path towards the car park. He didn't look back, and Kisame didn't blame him. It would only make things harder. He started crying then, and he made no attempt to stop it. The tears streamed down his face, his silent cries echoing in the empty doorway of the swimming centre. He cried for his parents, he cried for Zabuza, and he cried for himself.

He wouldn't leave, he refused to leave the doorway until he could no longer see Zabuza again, even though his next race was coming up soon. He didn't care, he just wanted to savour this moment forever.

Then, he saw it.

In the corner of his eye, he saw it.

It was limping quite quickly in Zabuza's direction, but he didn't seem to notice it. It looked weird, and he felt like he'd seen something like it before, but couldn't quite place where. As he was pondering, the thing got closer and closer to Zabuza, who still seemed to have not seen it yet. Kisame was getting slightly worried. He knew what it was, but he couldn't seem to remember. It was on the tip of his tongue.

Then, it clicked.

He remembered, just as it lunged in Zabuza's direction. Time seemed to go slow at that moment, as he watched it bare down upon his friend. He couldn't do anything, he had remembered too late.

He was too late...

"ZABUZA!"

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><p><strong>Yeah, I know, I took a long time. I'm a very slow person, so I apologise.<br>And I know Kisame had way more story time than Itachi, but that was because it took more time explaining everything.  
>I would also like to thank Narufan0001 for suggesting these two, as heshe was my first reviewer.  
>And of course, thanks to everyone else that reviewed!<strong>

**Oh, and by the way, I did research the facts for Kisame's condition with the silver intake, and it is actually a real illness, same with his mothers fear. I do try to use as many true facts as possible to make the story more realistic.**

**Okay, rant over**

**Peace!**

**~Raven**


	3. Chapter 3

_Where am I?_

_What am I doing here?_

_... who am I?_

He stood up, glancing at his surroundings indifferently, his bedsheets gathering in a pool around his feet as he swayed from left to right.

It was a bare room, he noted, with white walls, a desk and shelf, and a single, small window above the desk. The door was brown, which didn't look right with the colour shade, in his opinion, and it took up most of the space on his wall, which was pretty dumb, actually.

None of this was familiar to him, and yet, as he was inspecting the room, he found some of his hair on the desk, meaning he had to have sat there before... didn't it? No. He can't remember ever sitting in that seat, but, then again, it's not like he could remember anything anyway.

_What's going on...?_

He looked down and realized that he was, in fact, naked. He blushed and looked around frantically, searching for anything he could use to cover himself up, least someone walk in on him in his birth suit.

_Do I usually sleep naked?_

The thought repulsed him.

He found a grey all in one suit folded up neatly on his chair. It was one size too big for him, but at that moment, he didn't really care as long as he had at least some clothing on...well at least until he couldn't find any boxers to go under it.

_Is this all in one suit all their is?_

"Better than nothing"

He gasped and fell backwards onto the floor,his heart beating frantically as he looked around his room for the source of the gruff, sore voice that voiced the exact same words he was thinking.

"Anyone there?"

He launched himself up, his eyes darting around the spot he had previously been in. He could've sworn the source of that voice was right next to him. The voice that sounded horribly familiar, yet, loud and scary as it echoed off the walls all around him.

"P-please stop."

He whirled around, trying to catch a glimpse of the voice that was so near, he could almost taste it, the voice that has, so far, only repeated the things he had thought back to him... only the things he thought...

"Only the things I thought..."

This time, he didn't look around, for he knew now, the origin of the mysterious voice. He touched his lips, his eyes widening as he felt them move, as he heard the voice again.

"It's... my voice?"

Oh.

It was his own sound, the sound he makes when communicating with others. It was his voice. But... the voice sounded strange and so... foreign to him.

"How could I forget the sound of my own voice?"

It sounded raspy, as if he hadn't had a drink of water in days. It sounded... ugly. He wished his voice sounded more beautiful, something he could comfort himself with. Instead, he was left with his raspy voice, devoid of emotion.

He pulled on the all in one suit, too sad and confused to care about his lack of boxers anymore.

He decided to look around the room a bit more, perhaps searching for a clue to where he was and what he was doing here. Sure enough, as he pulled out the drawer underneath his desk, there was a blue tape recorder sitting idly in the corner with a yellow sticky note which read 'play me' along with a pair of blue headphones attached to it. He stuck the earbuds into his ear's, and his thumb ghosted over the play button, a thousand questions appearing in his head where but a few had previously dwelled.

_What will happen when I press play?_

_Could this be a trap?_

_Could this offer me a false sense of security?_

Soon, curiosity took the better of him, and his thumb struck down on the play button. He flinched, expecting some sort of trap to be triggered with the button, but nothing.

_"Hello, un." _

He jumped, the voice from the tape recorder catching him off guard. He scowled at himself for being scared of something as innocent as a tape recorder, and made a mental note of keeping up his guard. He picked up the previously discarded ear buds and placed them back in his ears. There was silence, and he noted that he must have paused the recording accidentally when it... startled him.

**Rewind**

**Play**

_"Hello, un."_

He paused it again, his breath hitched in his throat as he forced back a gasp. That voice... it sounded just like his... but it was beautiful, it flowed out of the recorder akin to a lions flowing mane. Could he sound like... that? Could his raspy, dehydrated voice, with a little time and water, be the comfort he was looking for in this strange place?

"Hello, un?"

No, it didn't sound perfect just yet, he would need to get some water to fix that, surely if he were to just give the next person he saw his name and his situation, maybe they could get him a glass of water...

His name?

Stupid... he had forgotten.

He couldn't even remember his own name...

One of the main things that made a human... them. Unique. It gave people individuality, the ability to be known as yourself. Without one, could he really be an individual?

_I wonder..._

**Rewind**

**Play**

_"Hello, un."_

_Hi_

_"I assume that, since you are reading this..."_

_I'm not reading... I'm listening._

_"... I must have lost my memories again."_

That caught his attention. What did he mean by 'again'?

_"Yes, again, un."_

His eyes narrowed slightly... was this tape recorder a psychic?

_"You... I mean I, have very bad memory problems... that's the easiest way to put it I guess..."_

_Damn_

He knew he must have lost his memories somehow, but he thought it would be in a more... interesting way, like an injection based amnesia or something. This was just... boring he guessed.

_"Yeah, boring, I know, right, un?"_

_Damn mind reading tape recorders..._

_"I am recording this message for when one of these episodes come to play, as most of the time, I can't even remember myself."_

_Y' got that right._

_"I made this tape for when I have my next... episode. So hi, future me."_

_Sup, past._

_"Anyway, you... I have them every once in a while. But don't worry, your memories will start to come back, but it's a gradual procedure. It could take anywhere from 3 weeks to 6 months... maybe even more for most of your... my memories to come back..."_

_That's a very long time..._

_"That's a very long time, un, I know, but it's something that you... I can't control. Even now, while I'm recording this message, I can only remember parts of my past. I doubt we will ever be able to remember everything. By the time I think I've at least grasped at the surface of my life, another... episode come's along, and all of my memories are wiped."_

An overwhelming urge of sadness washed over him suddenly in a tsunami of regrets, self sorrow and self pity. For both the him right now and the him back then, who was recording the message.

_"Anyway, I know it's hard, and the reason I made this was to help you... me through it. There isn't enough time for me to tell you everything... it's not safe..."_

_Not safe?_

_"But I will tell you the things you need to know for now, and let you remember everything naturally"_

_Is there such a thing as natural now?_

_"First of all, your name is Deidara._

**Pause**

"Dei... da... ra?"

He tested his 'name', dragging out each syllable for as long as humanly possible, to savour the feeling of finally having a name, an identity.

**Play**

_"I... I can't remember your... my... our second name... I'm sorry."_

_" Secondly, you are in a mental hospital. Your room number is 295 and lunch is at 1:20. Don't be late, or else you wont get any food, and trust me, in the state you must be in now, you'll need it."_

He quickly glanced at the time on the tape recorder, and breathed a sigh of relief when he realised it was only 12:30. He still had about 50 minutes to go. Plenty of time.

... Wait, did the tape recorder just say he was in a mental hospital?

Well, he couldn't really say it surprised him that much, what with the blank walls and his state of mind, he would be more surprised if the zombie apocalypse were to happen (heh... heh).

_"You don't have many friends here, and trust me, you probably don't want to make friends with most the people in this hell hole, un. Heck, one of them after talking to me tried to stab my eye out with a spork... or was it a spoon? Yeah, memory problems, un."_

_What the fuck is a spork?_

_"The only person that you might consider your 'friend' is a guy named Jugo. He's the only one around here who doesn't use you or isn't completely mentally insane. If anyone else come's up to you to talk to you, ignore them. They will probably try to stab you with a spork again. We go through a lot of sporks in here..."_

_Fucking spork's..._

_"Also, you're 15 year's old and your birthday is on may 5th."_

_Funny. 15 years old but I feel older._

_"... That's all I can really tell you at the moment, but it should be enough to get you through this. You're... I'm... we're smart, what you can't deal with, improvise, we will be just fine."_

_"And one more thing... don't stand out. Life is a cruel game in general, but the one your playing goes above and beyond such labels, un. You have to play the right moves in order to keep yourself alive, but don't attract attention to yourself. That's how most people leave this place. They call it a 'mental hospital' when really it's just a place they keep people like us under 'check'. Dangerous people. People the government want to keep alive 'just in case'. One wrong move and your out of this game for good, un. Don't piss people off and don't make anyone happy. In their eye's, you are mere sacrificial pawn. Play by their rules for now."_

_"Good luck, un."_

**Beep**

Deidara clutched the tape recorder, willing tears to come to his eyes, willing for his heart to clench, willing for something, _anything _to show he was still capable of such a display of sadness.

Nothing.

He wondered why. Why he couldn't cry. Why he couldn't remember. Why he was like this. Who he was. Why _him._

But the answers never came, not in this twisted game of cat and mouse. All you needed to know was how to stay alive, all other questions didn't matter. Not any more, not from now on.

He already knew what he had to do, whether it cost him his life or not, and he suspected the him before would've known too, by the way he said 'play by their rules for now' with just a tad too much sorrow...

He had to _fight_.

He had to _win_.

He wouldn't stand being a pawn any longer.

No.

He would be the player, and fuck those who forced their rules upon him. He'll control the game, and put their king under check.

Little did he know, that the means to the end of this little game of life had already started to clear pieces off the board.

* * *

><p><strong>Been having writers block for a while, so it's just Deidara's point of view this chapter, which now means that the actual story with start to unravel at chapter 6, not 5. Sorry about the long wait, I know, I'll try to get the next one done sooner.<strong>

~**Raven**


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